She Was
by Fac ut Vivas
Summary: So what did happen to Ginny in the Chamber of Secrets? No one knows, no one cares. And this was fine for her, but someone found out.


Disclaimer: hmm...I own Kara...rest belongs to JK Rowling...I'm just going to borrow them for a short while...  
  
This story was inspired by Ilana Jacqueline's poem "She Was" but she doesn't want her poem posted here so go read it at her website...www.ilanawrites.com (go to the poetry section and then look for one called "She Was".) I love her poems and stories, go read them, but first read my story...

**She Was**  
  
I sat next to my friends at breakfast. They talked and jabbered and didn't notice me, sitting in silence. On the other side of me sat the perfect trio. It's sad that my brother didn't even notice that I wasn't talking and I wasn't eating. It was probably because I wasn't crying. That's the only time they notice something's wrong: when I shed gloomy tears. I spent my tears this morning in the showers before anyone was even near awake. In there, I destroyed what I could find; I had run out of things to destroy in my mind.  
  
The thoughts in my head made me think back to my first year. It was just like the secrets that were hidden in the chamber. Tom...he was always so gentle...he sucked me into his world, fate couldn't change anything; I couldn't change anything, and neither could everyone else. No one could hurt me. No one, except for him.  
  
"Hey, Ginny, you want some of this, whatever it is?" Kara asked. She was the only one that was my friend; in fact, these were her friends I was sitting with.  
  
"No thanks, I'm fine," I had said, giving her a forced smile. But everything wasn't fine. In my head, I was hurting.  
  
Not that they heard me, crying, and not that they saw me, mentally dying. Not that they cared. Not that I would tell them.  
  
This pain that had grown worse over the years was all mine. This pain was all mine.  
  
It had been like this for weeks now, no one noticed. Well, Kara might have noticed something wrong, but she never found out much; she always got distracted. I'm not going to tell her, she should have noticed more than that by now. This is my life and this is how I have to live it.  
  
But my head is throbbing worse now. It's making me let my guard down, making it easier for people to hurt me. To hide it all, I smiled more, but now it wasn't a forced, nice smile -- It was malicious.  
  
I didn't even notice the pair of eyes watching me from across the room.  
  
Kara, her friends and I went to the hall and there we split our ways. They didn't take the same classes as me. I never did make very far. The one that had been watching me at breakfast dragged me over to the side.  
  
Draco Malfoy.  
  
"Let go of me," I had said. There had been no time to cower, no time to give a witty retort.  
  
"No," was his annoyingly firm answer.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because there's something wrong with you," he knew, the one that we despised knew, even though no one else did.  
  
"How do you know if I do?"  
  
"It's not that hard," He replied, like the cocky bastard he is. "You're not eating and have you seen the way you've been smiling? Not lovely in the least."  
  
"What I do is none of your business."  
  
"I'm making it my business, Weasley," he had said and then dragged me along with him while he went up a few stairs. Then we ended up at what I knew to be Dumbledore's office.  
  
"Why are we here, Malfoy?"  
  
"Because you need help." He mumbled the password to the gargoyle and led me up the stairs. In there my problems were discussed, and Dumbledore looked at me with his disappointed eyes; he somehow made me feel guilty. My help was delivered in the form of therapy.  
  
My family was called that day. They were shocked that they never knew, that they never noticed. But they never got the whole story. They never found out much more than the fact that I wasn't eating. They didn't know how I had kept it as a secret for so long, and was still here and alive to tell the tale.  
  
In those damn therapy sessions my past was pressed for every detail, secrets were revealed. And now I wish I had never given in. The only reassuring thing in that room was Draco. He was always there standing by the window. Having him there was a special request of someone's. I had repeatedly asked myself who would request such an odd thing, but it didn't matter because he calmed me, somehow.  
  
I play with the bottle that contained my potion that was supposed to calm me. But they don't, they just make me weak and kill me faster.  
  
A gentle knock is heard, echoing slightly in this small room I was given all to myself in this vast school. But that didn't stop people from visiting. Ron tried to come everyday, I wish he didn't. I didn't want to talk to anyone anymore.  
  
But the person at the door didn't wait for my consent. He just came in, so like Draco Malfoy.  
  
I hadn't talked to him since he took me to Dumbledore. And then I just couldn't help it, his presence had comforted me in the therapy room but here he just made me angry, and I burst out crying. "It's all your fault...all your fault..."  
  
"My fault?" his voice was unusually soft. "My fault for what? That no one else noticed besides me?"  
  
I didn't answer.  
  
"That no one else took this seriously because it seemed so common and insignificant for it to occur to a teenager?" his voice raising slightly.  
  
He kneeled down beside me, and did something that would be counted as very un-Malfoyish. He hugged me, a Weasley to boot. The hug was soft and gentle, he shushed me in an undertone. When I calmed down he whispered, "For us, who have had painful memories, a painful life, it's so much easier to die. If we all died, though, because of our problems, then there would hardly be anyone left in the world. But you have to figure out that everything is a journey, and the healing process is probably the longest of all. But every step will be worth it...Self harm, suicide, it's all cowardice in the end ... and yet, here I was thinking that Gryffindors were supposed to be brave."  
  
"We are," I managed to choke out, arrogant despite the situation.  
  
"Then prove it, Weasley, start living."

A/N: hmm...I seem to be writing more one-shots...maybe I'm just not devoted to anything...  
  
Oh and don't forget my lovely beta hehe gotta love her, Kendra (aka shadowed past) read her stories they're good...I promise 


End file.
